


Ode to the Rookie

by litspinels



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2019-10-22 08:45:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17659550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/litspinels/pseuds/litspinels
Summary: I can't even remember when I first published this, so I'm going by the date on that sole tumblr post. Un-edited and unchecked, not beta-read. This was the copy I have in my drives, I hope it's not littered with mistakes. I didn't know you can't not have comments here, I thought there was an option to not have them but I guess I'm wrong. I'm not sure I want to read comments on this work - please spare me. I beg you. Please don't comment on this work.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I can't even remember when I first published this, so I'm going by the date on that sole tumblr post. Un-edited and unchecked, not beta-read. This was the copy I have in my drives, I hope it's not littered with mistakes. I didn't know you can't not have comments here, I thought there was an option to not have them but I guess I'm wrong. I'm not sure I want to read comments on this work - please spare me. I beg you. Please don't comment on this work.

The clock on the nightstand read a couple of minutes before seven; its long hand ticking about the face with each second that passed. Akane Tsunemori couldn’t remember seeing a real analog clock before, and its mere existence was preventing her to believe completely that the past two days wasn’t a dream. Sure, the ceiling above was too low for comfort, the bed too small and the mattress sank a little, the blanket was soft and it creased when she clutched at it to cover her chest when she sat up… the air was warm but a cool breeze entered by the open window.

 

She winced a little when her feet touched the cold floor. Standing up, she left the blanket behind and went straight to the closet on the side of the small room. She ran her fingers along the sleeves of crisp white shirts, picking one she thought would look good on her, despite knowing the shirts were pretty much identical. Bringing the collar to her face, she drew breath, inhaling the scent of old fashioned laundry detergent- she saw it yesterday downstairs- before putting the shirt on, the fabric hung loosely on her shoulders, her arms not even long enough to slide through the sleeves. Smiling, Akane rolled up the sleeves and buttoned herself up, pulling on the collar once more and feeling the hem of the shirt rise high up her legs; the shirt smelled so good, and it felt good, too.

 

She tiptoed around the small room, searching for a mirror. The closest thing she could find that could project a reflection was the door of a small microwave oven, and she decided it would suffice. She twirled and observed herself, watching her short legs move about and checking out if her butt even made an impression on the loose fabric; she looked like a little hanger- not even a the slightest bit sexy. Disappointed, she loosened another button near her chest and turned back to the bed- only to find him staring straight at her.

 

Startled, her first reaction was to cover her face completely, blood rushing to her cheeks. She was probably doing a mighty good job at creasing his perfectly ironed shirt when the next moment she brought her hands to stretch the hem down her legs, not looking at him.

 

“Size too big?” he sat up, popping a cigarette in his mouth and lighting it, his gaze not leaving her.

 

Akane looked up, slowly, and found him staring; his eyes piercing, his hair a spiky mess, his chest rose with a deep inhale, a flicker of sunlight touching his skin. “I… was…”

 

“Trying it on, that’s fine,” he took the stick out of his mouth, slowly exhaling the smoke from his lips. “Do you like it?”

 

She swallowed. “Do you?” Her stomach turned at her own audacity, and her confidence withdrew, eyes lowered to stare at her bare feet. If she was dreaming then she must have been so far gone into it, this room, the bed, the covers, him, her. She rubbed her legs together nervously, her mind reeling in flashbacks two days old, of memories that had aged her by years.


	2. One

She sort of wished the bullet didn’t just scrape the side of her arm. It was hard to open her eyes; hard to face the reality that there was a traitor working right under her nose, that she was about to be killed by his bare hands with no consequence— the pain of betrayal hurt more than the burn on her arm where she bled while they fought, and if she was alive right now it only meant one thing.

 

The first thing she saw was a wooden coffee table, on it was a glass of cold milk and sandwich on a small plate. She was lying on a leather couch beneath a cotton-white blanket, in her panties and an oversized shirt she knew wasn’t hers. The knowledge alone would have had her in panic on a normal day, considering she wasn’t even in a hospital bed inside the headquarters of the MWPSB. There was no room for other emotions, and guilty as she was, it was selfishness that won her over the moment her eyes locked with his.

 

Shinya Kogami stood by the counter near the small kitchen in his white shirt with rolled up sleeves, loosened tie and black pants, not a single day old. His gaze softened as he approached; setting aside the plate before taking a seat on the coffee table, he leaned forward, watching her big, brown eyes glisten underneath the soft light of the room.

 

“Hey.”

 

A tear fell when she blinked; rolling off the bridge of her nose, to the other side of her cheek and into the fabric of the pillow. His voice was just as she remembered, deep and hoarse, a cool and detached tone that did not match the look in his eyes. She pushed herself up to sit and his arms were already there, supporting, and she remembered how painful her wounds really were— on her arm and inside her chest, because she was an idiot and she felt guilty that she is alive knowing that seeing him, talking to him, being with him like now, was not something she deserved.

 

She kept her head low when her feet touched the floor, bringing along the blanket to cover her legs it crossed her mind that he had seen her when he took off her clothes and that there was no point, but she convinced herself that she was cold anyway. The air was thick and the silence was filled with a sound buzzing in her ears, she couldn’t look at him without feeling a fresh stream of tears well in her eyes. Even when she wanted to speak to him she didn’t have the right words, and in her heart she was screaming for him like she had been ever since he went away.

 

His fingers traced the line of her cheek, soft and gentle. “Long time, no see huh?”

 

Hearing the smile in his voice was the last straw; her body betrayed her like it did when she tried to hold herself strong in front of him, her head bowed low, her shoulders shook and all her tears fell in an endless stream where her incompetence and misplaced trust— and now her guilt, took form. Shinya kneeled on the floor, catching her in his arms. Unlike before when he could only watch her cry, or give her a tap so she could, the freedom to be this close to her without having to think about the lines that the world had drawn between them had been a long standing ache that was a wish fulfilled.

 

He had never been an affectionate person. His passions were limited to things that enticed his mind, never his heart. Running after Shogo Makishima he had crossed a bridge of his own making; one that distanced himself from Akane and the rest of Division One. In killing Shogo Makishima, he had burned that same bridge, despite Akane’s efforts of trying to cross it to bring him back. Being parted from her since that day had never been the same for him, and even though all this time he had been on the other side, just watching from afar, he knew. She took something from him that he might not ever get back.

 

Shinya buried his nose in her hair, inhaling her scent; a mixture of cigarettes and perfume. The warmth of her body against him spoke to his senses; her breath on his neck unearthed his desires. She looked up slowly, meeting his eyes with a searching gaze; he brought her hand to his lips and planted a soft kiss there.

 

“K-Kogami-san…”

 

Her palm rested on his cheek, his one hand held it in place while the other brought her body flush against him. She was close enough for him to see the tear stains on her cheek and her long eyelashes still holding some small beads of moisture. Her breath came in soft puffs against his lips, and hesitation came for a split second before his lips touched hers— he had rebuilt the bridge between them, and he wanted her to cross it too.

 

Shinya spoke her name and it raised her spirits and blurred her vision for the briefest of moments, only to blink back her tears in exchange for something else— something she knew she wanted more than anything.

 

His hands cupped her face and the next moment they were kissing, passionate and deep. There was no room for soft and slow; they were hungry, inviting each other with each catch of breath, arms wrapping around each other as they fell back on the couch. She had never kissed a man before and her knowledge was limited to how they wrote it in books, or how they showed in the movies; there wasn’t the slightest indication from him that she was doing wrong. She let his lips take her and she responded, open-mouthed and desperate, all modesty and reason thrown out the window. His tongue darted out to meet hers, the way she had read it to be and she did the same in a clumsy, messy manner and he pulled away briefly, a soft chuckle escaping his lips before taking her again even before she had time to catch her breath.

 

He leaned forward, almost picking her up as they fell back to the couch. His tongue was doing things in her mouth, making her moan as he hovered over her, hands everywhere at once; her face, her neck, her arms; his palms brushed against her chest, light and unimposing. She responded by guiding his hand beneath the shirt and he took it from there.

 

He let go of her lips abruptly, one arm reaching behind to sit her up, gently pulling her shirt off. She lifted both arms to assist him, and smiled when he went slower on her injured arm. Tossing the shirt aside, he glanced appreciatively at her half-naked form; apparently being the one in less clothes did not faze her, but he loved that the look in her eyes was less of confidence and more of trust. Stepping out of the couch, he stood, taking her with him on a backwards walk to his bed as he guided her as she had done, in taking off his clothes.

 

Her fingers unfastened his tie, winding it on one hand; she let it fall on the floor and proceeded to unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it loose from being tucked in his pants. Her small hands wandered over the hard planes of his chest; her fingers ghosting over the muscles of his abdomen, her breath hitched in between kisses as a familiar heat began to pool between her legs. The back of her knees met the bed and he caught her from falling before discarding his shirt. She made work of his belt; brushing over his erection and hearing a moan escape his lips she tried again, lowering his zipper as she did so. His arms tightened around her in an attempt to control himself, he pushed her gently to lie down before him, discarding his pants and underwear before joining her.

 

He cradled her head and kissed her nose, his breath was hot and smelled of mint and cigarette; he looked down at her like she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. His lips travelled when he was done exploring her mouth, leaving her breathless as he rained kisses on her neck, down the valley of her breasts before venturing below, his long fingers teasing the edge of her underwear before pulling it slowly down, leaving her with soft kisses on her thighs before coming back up to run a tongue up her slit. Her eyes widened at the sensation, both hands found purchase in his hair while he kissed her there, circling her clit in a way her fingers could never do; drawing out pleasured sounds from her lips with each searing touch in places she had given him access to; his lips, his tongue burned fire on her skin, her legs parting impulsively to give him room. Each fevered kiss sent her closer till she was writhing beneath him, back arching as she came.

 

Shinya kissed his way back up, tracing his tracks with his fingers. For someone who can dent the face of an exercise drone his touches were feather-light when he wanted to, and, she would discover when he returned to her lips, that at the same time he could be a little rough on her breasts, but never to the point where it hurt. She was reeling from the aftermath of her orgasm that she couldn’t figure out where her hands where, and what to do with them, but he caught her hand as kissed it with his eyes closed.

 

“Kogami-san…“she breathed, smiling and unable to gather her mental faculties when it felt important.

 

“My name is Shinya, Inspector,” he smiled in reply, rubbing his nose on hers.

 

She tilted her head, bringing her arms around his neck. “Then call me Akane.” She could feel his length graze her sex, and she had never felt more ready. 

 

“You’re still an inspector, Inspector.” Shinya used a hand to bend her leg, positioning himself at her entrance. “I don’t mean to disrespect.”

 

“You’re not—“ her breath hitched, eyes shut at the intrusion. The feeling of being stretched, of a weight between her legs, was all him. She opened her eyes and saw his filled with concern and concentration, hard lines creased his forehead and the side of his eyes. “—hurting me—” was what she ended up saying. She kissed him, bending both her knees and giving him more room as he pushed till he was fully seated inside.

 

“You okay?” he asked with a slow roll of his hips. Akane couldn’t reply; she couldn’t figure out how she was supposed to feel other than she was running short of breath and her heart threatened to burst. “Akane…”

 

“Yes?” she replied, breathless. She could feel him, could feel her walls clench around him at the sound of her name. He pulled her body down the mattress so that her head no longer rested on a pillow and began to pick up his rhythm without warning.

 

It was then that she had begun to feel it; the burning, grazing heat brought by his thrusts were stealing the air in her lungs; he cradled her head in between both arms and assaulted her lips with passionate kisses while his powerful hips pushed his length deeper, harder than the last and she was moaning his name in between kisses like saying it repeatedly would satisfy the hunger that coiled within her, growing hotter as her own hips began to move.

 

“Don’t… stop…” she pleaded desperately. Her hands hung onto his back, wanting him more, wanting him closer than he already is. His heavy panting clear in her ears, his length hitting the places that drew out her moans; sweat beading on their foreheads as their hips met each other in delicious friction.

 

“I won’t,” he whispered like a prayer in the corner of her lips. His body responded with equal desire, bringing a finger in between their bodies to rub her clit in time with his thrusts.

 

“Shinn…” His name was lost in a barrage of sensations after a particularly deep thrust, the fire in her eyes was ingrained in his memory, and he did it again, and again till she was whimpering beneath him, the heat rushing in a pleasured race, exploding within her core and spreading; her breath caught in her throat; back arching as her walls closed around him, gripping his length. He was so close now that kissing was difficult and he still tried, because two years was a long time, and he wanted both of them to remember. Breathless, she still responded with passion that he didn’t just feel within where her walls still held him tighter, but around him where they shared in heat. With a final thrust he came, spilling his seed before collapsing on top of her with a satisfied hum.

 

He eased off her, separating himself and lying on his back to catch his breath. They stayed silent for a little while, barely touching and hardly believing what just happened. Her fingers brushed against his, and he sat up, pulling the covers over them, grabbing a pillow and placing it beneath her head before lying back down.

 

“Did I…” he found a particular point on the ceiling that interested him— “hurt you?”

 

“No. Listen, Kogami-san…” Her small hands clutched at the blanket, bringing it close to her chest. “I’m sorry…”

 

Confused, he turned sideways to face her for the first time. He did not know why he was so afraid, but he sure as hell didn’t know what reason could be that she was apologizing. “For what?”

 

And again, no matter how good she felt after what had happened, her heart ached with guilt. “Because you… and Togane…”

 

“What, you think I killed him?” he propped on his elbow, amused.

 

Akane slowly rolled to her side to face him. “Y… you mean, you didn’t?”

 

A loud chuckle escaped from his lips, shaking his head at the brunette. Without looking he reached for a packet of cigarettes on the nightstand behind him, offering some to Akane, who declined. He sat up and lit the stick in his mouth with a smug expression. “Suit yourself. Never know you might need to investigate the man you just slept with.”

 

She was glad the blanket existed, and that he seemed too occupied with smoking that he didn’t notice her hiding her flushed face. It seemed, by some miracle, that she really did sleep with Shinya Kogami.

 

“Wait a minute… how did you know I light cigarettes when I want to think?”

 

He blew out a thick stream of smoke to the ceiling before placing the cigarette on the ash tray. “Because,” he hovered above her face while she cowered beneath the sheets, “you smell like it.” He emphasized the point by taking a whiff of her hair, letting his lips linger over her forehead. “And also because I do it too.”

 

Raising her eyebrows, she emerged from the sheets with a knowing pout. “Yeah, right. You smoke _all_ the time.”

 

His fingers traced the line of her jaw, soft and light. “Not as much as when I’m thinking.”

 

“So you…” his thumb brushed over her lips— “really didn’t kill him?”

 

“Inspector—“ he lowered his head till he was inches from her.

 

“It’s Akane,” she stubbornly reminded. It was getting hard not to want to kiss him.

 

“Akane,” he stressed, looking at her lips. “You have to give me a bit more credit than that. I only broke his leg, and then I handcuffed him before filing a record and reporting him using your communicator. Quite a far cry from the conclusion you seemed to have conjured in your head, I presume?” he dipped his head and she closed her eyes, only to jump when the kiss landed on the side of her jaw.

 

“A-Are you seducing me?”

 

“Depends. Probably worth the credit that I was due, don’t you think?” He proceeded to planting chaste kisses on her neck. “And I could think of many ways to get my credit, so to speak.”

 

“Well can we start with my lips, please?”

 

“Why should I start where you want?” he brushed a thumb on her breast, the hardened nipple peeking through the blanket.

 

“But I—“

 

She didn’t get to say any more as his lips descended upon her; maybe he thinks she’s already getting better at kissing. Maybe he’s not so good himself and wants to practice with her.

 

The cigarette remained lit; its smoke hung in the air, filling the room with a scent they both shared.


	3. Two

Akane Tsunemori wasn’t a virgin anymore.

 

She woke up alone and couldn’t sense him anywhere in the room, but a fresh towel lay at the foot of the bed, along with another oversized T-shirt and a navy blue checkered… boxers.

 

 _Boxers will definitely do_ , she smiled. After all, she couldn’t deny that she would be extremely upset if he had some ladies’ underwear at his disposal. She sat up, peeking beneath the covers at her own body and feeling stupid the next second, blood rushing to her cheeks. There wasn’t anything different at all _outside_ , and it wasn’t like she expected some sort of physical indication about the turn of events last night. She did feel a little sore down there, and maybe she pulled a few muscles on her thigh, and her injured arm felt thick and heavy— definitely not a hundred percent, but overall, she had never felt better. Not in a million years.

 

Sitting up she put on a pair of too-big slippers at the foot of the bed. Grabbing the towel to wrap around her, she stood and made a little trip around the small room.

 

There was a closet next to the nightstand on her side of the bed, the couch and the coffee table were only a few steps away in the middle of the floor, and a counter separated the small kitchen on the far side of the room. She found some interesting items there; a gas range, a coffee-press, a toaster, a microwave oven, various pots and pans and a full set of kitchen knives, a chopping board— well, none of these were extinct, but definitely all of them weren’t what you would call ordinary. There was even an ice shaver; those old ones with a rotating knob. Akane could only imagine the multitude of things Shinya could do to pass time in the kitchen alone, but she turned to the other side of the room and saw an old bookshelf filled with paperbacks and she already knew the kitchen wasn’t where he spent the most time on.

 

The door to the bathroom was next to the closet; she found out after mistaking the other door by the bookshelf and finding a staircase instead. She heard some sounds from below, and the scent of cigarettes filled her nose; at least she knew where to find him.

 

Her wound was still fresh; it took her a while to get used to the sting beneath the warm spray of the shower. She was definitely thankful that the detachable showerhead had temperature control, albeit manual. It wasn’t so bad except in the beginning she couldn’t figure out which buttons to push with the labels in a language she didn’t know; seems imported items were also in abundance in Shinya’s place. She liked that the body wash and the shampoo didn’t smell too much like a man’s, and that there was a bottle of conditioner almost unused because it was obviously not for men, but she didn’t want to think about what that could imply.

 

Akane dressed and went straight downstairs, finding Shinya with a cigarette in his mouth, leaning on a counter facing a washing machine, seemingly in deep thought. He cast a gaze upon her when she approached, stopping her in her tracks.

 

“Uh… hi!” she waved awkwardly, suddenly remembering that her wound was exposed. “Do you… do you have bandages?”

 

He put out the cigarette and turned away from her, opening the door of the cabinet behind him. He took out some cotton, a bottle of antiseptic, a small vial with clear liquid, an unopened pack of syringe, and a fresh roll of bandages. Once again he faced her and pulled out a couple of chairs, gesturing her to sit.

 

Rolling up her sleeves, he worked quietly while she observed; one hand held her arm firmly while the other rubbed the cotton with antiseptic in small circles over her wound. He was gentle, and was even more when she flinched, looking at her for a brief moment with a smirk on his lips.

 

“Hungry?” he asked, placing the cotton on the counter and using his teeth to tear the syringe pack. He took the small vial and shook it, noticing her eyes watching him.

 

“Yeah… a little.” She actually meant a lot. “What’s that?”

 

Using his teeth again to take out the plastic cap of the needle, he pierced the lid of the vial, turning it upside down and emptying the contents into the syringe, spitting out the cap in his mouth as he did so. “Morphine. I have something I want to discuss with you.”

 

“Morphine? I’m not that hurt, Kogami-s—“

 

“Shinya, Inspector.” He replied, taking her arm. “You’ll need it for our discussion.”

 

Confused, Akane leaned forward and grabbed his wrist. “Why? Are you going to inflict pain on me?”

 

“Not in that sense,” he smiled. Raising an eyebrow, he gazed suspiciously, somewhat teasing. “I honestly don’t know what you’re thinking.”

 

“Nor I you,” she replied, defiant. “Why do I need morphine?”

 

“Would it make you feel better that I injected some on you yesterday?”

 

“Not the slightest!” her voice raised, she pulled away from his grasp feeling betrayed.

 

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “It would be nice if you trusted me, you know.” He held out his hand and waited, watching her expression change from defensive to vulnerable; she took a deep breath and took his hand.

 

“I couldn’t save all your clothes, by the way,” he injected the needle on her skin and shifted his gaze on the washing machine behind her. “Your skirt is fine… and your underwear, but they’re still in the washer. Your jacket and shirt was torn, and your stockings were pretty much ruined.”

 

Akane turned around, a little horrified that her underwire bra was inside, tumbling in soapy water. A blush crept up her cheeks when she remembered how it got there; she shook the thought out of her head and distracted herself with the bag of laundry detergent— the powdered ones— that was on top of the washer.

 

“Where did you get those?” she asked, suddenly curious. He had just begun wrapping the bandages on her arm; she didn’t even notice he was done injecting.

 

“Suppliers.”

 

“Do people still make them?”

 

“Actually, no. Those are old stocks; most of them were given away when the factories went out of business, but of course I’m not getting them for free.” He unrolled her sleeves and ran a hand up and down her arm when he was done. “It’ll be a few minutes before that’s done. Come on, let’s eat.”

 

***

 

“Sorry about the boxers, too. Those were all I could find. And I only got replies this morning so I’ll only be getting a package of lady clothes in the afternoon.”

 

He had finished his plate of curry while she was on her second. She shook her head with a smile. “It’s fine. What package?”

 

“From suppliers.”

 

Akane instinctively turned her head to the window by the bookshelf. “And… people deliver them?”

 

Shinya could see the gears in her head were already turning. “The view isn’t going to help you at all, Akane. I don’t think I need to tell you that you’re not supposed to know where we are.”

 

She looked in his eyes, asking questions without words.

 

“I’ve been here for a while now,” he began, turning his head to blow out the smoke through his lips. “I’d say legally I’m a fugitive, but before I became one I already exiled myself from society.”

 

“Well, you didn’t have to be one, obviously.” There was bitterness in her voice that she couldn’t hide. Despite the fact that he was sitting in front of her right now, the topic did not make it any easier to talk about. “Do you have neighbors?”

 

“It isn’t my business to know.” He lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply. “It’s enough that I’ve taken refuge from the Sybil System and I’m not the only one.”

 

She nodded, already thirsty for more information. “We’re not… outside the country, right?”

 

“Would I have been able to get to you so soon?”

 

Her spoon was left suspended in mid-air and he could tell she was trying to be cool about it the way her jaw clenched and her lips pursed. “So how long have you been watching us?”

 

“Only you, Inspector. And I don’t watch you all the time.”

 

“It’s _Akane_ ,” she insisted.

 

He leaned forward, flicking his cigarette above the ashtray. “You’ve matured quite well, but you failed to see a traitor in your midst. I don’t know what the circumstances were that caused you to think he wasn’t up to no good—”

 

“You mean you _knew_ that he wasn’t?” The rest of her plate was abandoned; she simply lost her appetite.

 

“I had my reservations. But for someone who could only see from afar, I gave him the benefit of a doubt. Also,” he paused, taking another drag. “I’d say my judgment is compromised, anyway.” Not explaining further, he rose from his chair and fished out his pocket. “Here,” he took her hand and put a blue pill in the palm of her hand.

 

“What’s this?”

 

“It’s an energy booster. I need you running on adrenaline for the rest of the day; it’s going to counter the side effects of that morphine shot.”

 

Confused, Akane tilted her head. “But what for?”

 

“So that you won’t need me, next time.”

 

***

 

They were back downstairs; she was hanging the clothes from the washer while he pushed some tables aside to make room. He then unfurled a large rubber mat before sitting by the counter, lighting up the cigarette he had kept in his mouth.

 

“You mixed whites with the darks,” she pointed out with a smile, bringing a shirt to her nose and sniffing the clean fabric. “Good thing the colors didn’t stain. Smells nice, too… Why don’t pre-mixed liquid detergents smell like these anymore?”

 

“Beats me. You’re genuinely interested in the detergent.”

 

“Actually,” she hung the last shirt on the clothesline before facing him. “I’m genuinely interested in your fellow refugees.”

 

He was in the middle of taking a long drag and he paused, exhaling the smoke through his nose. “What about them?”

 

“Well, since you’ve been here for a while it means that living here is sustainable, even for someone who’s… legally a fugitive. What about the others? What are they? Are they fugitives like you?”

 

“What do you think?”

 

“I’m asking you because I don’t know.”

 

“Wrong. You have an assumption. You’re asking me because you want to know if you assumed correct.” He put out the cigarette and leaned back with arms crossed and used his feet to pull out the chair from beneath the counter, tilting his head for her to sit. “Correct?”

 

Akane sat and leaned forward with hands rested on her lap. “You left because you denounced the justice denied by Sibyl.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“You can’t be the only one, and it can’t only be about justice or crime that people disapprove of the System. Fact is, as a normal, logical thinking human being, you don’t have to break the law to disagree with the system.”

 

He smiled, letting out a deep breath before standing. “I don’t regret what I’ve done.” He held out his hand, which she took, and he led her to the middle of the floor.

 

“How many are you?”

 

“A fair number, Inspector. Any other questions before we start?” He let go of her hand, looking down at her.

 

“You speak to them?”

 

“Online.”

 

“What are they? What were they?”

 

“Does it matter?”

 

Her hands fisted on her sides, not appreciating that they weren’t on the same page. “Only those who mattered before Sibyl could understand why it’s not as just as it is perceived to be, and they’re the only ones who could have been able to argue as to why. We knew, but we found out because of circumstances that led us to discovering, but these people… they’ve probably been there at the inception of the system, and who knows? Maybe they fought and lost.”

 

Shinya ran his fingers through his hair, frustrated. “Maybe they didn’t even fight. What are you getting at?”

 

“They must have been Scholars, Philosophers, Free-thinkers… people whose services were deemed unnecessary when Sybil was put in place. Doctors, Scientists, Professionals… And especially those who knew the law— like former Detectives, Lawyers, Judges, Prosecutors? Am I right?”

 

Without intending to, his temper rose when his own brain clicked when it dawned upon him what she was trying to do. “No one is practicing their profession, if they had one before. You forgot no courts exist in this day and age!”

 

“A full-functioning court is the only way these kinds of cases can be brought to justice! We should be seeking out these people!” she stepped forward, defiant. “They’re exactly what we need for you!”

 

“I’m not going to bother others for my cause!” His shout reverberated through the small room, his figure towered over her when he grabbed her by the arms and pulled her closer. “I’m no longer part of Sybil!”

 

“Well I am!” she objected. “I’ve been fighting for it because of others and against it because of you!” Her hands clutched the fabric of his shirt, shaking. Too long had she coped alone, seeking his guidance and missing him all this time; she would take any opportunity, any bleak chance if it meant they would belong to the same place again. She lowered her head, voice dropping to a whisper. “I haven’t given up on you.”

 

He loosened his grip, dropping his arms to his sides. “This is not the time to talk about that, Akane.”

 

“Then when?” she pleaded, keeping her hold on his shirt. He took her hands in his, rubbing his thumb in circles on her palm.

 

“I’m sorry, but even I can’t tell you when. I haven’t come to terms with plenty of things, but I intend to do right by you.” He kissed the back of her hands in apology. He let go and stepped back, his gaze serious. “Can we start now?”

 

She looked in his eyes, searching, trying to understand. Her ideas were tedious, almost impractical, and not even in any way easy; Makishima was supposed to be an exception, and now to her there was no way real justice could be served if Shinya wasn’t treated as an exception too. Not knowing how or when to start wasn’t helping her either, and perhaps if she had a bit more to show, it would change his mind.

 

“Okay,” she nodded, forcing her brain to set the matter aside.

 

***

 

“I don’t doubt that you can defend yourself when your opponent is at gunpoint and when you’ve got a gun, however, I want to teach you how to disable an assailant who has caught you unawares and is physically stronger than you.”

 

They stood in the middle of the floor facing each other; Akane felt the room looked much smaller and their differences in height and build was pronounced. She vividly remembered when Togane wrung an arm around her neck, dragging her to who-knows-where with a gun pointed to her head.

 

“Did you feel too betrayed to do anything?” he asked, stepping forward.

 

She regarded him with a faint smile. “I guess…” He watched curiously, as if waiting for her to deny it. “Okay, fine. I _was_ too betrayed that I just lost it there for a moment.”

 

“Do you think you could have snapped out of it?”

 

“I could have, definitely. But that’s already after the fact. You came and saved me. I was almost unconscious; I don’t think I could have done anything more, to be honest.” A chill ran up her spine at the thought.

 

His hand came up, fingers tracing the side of her jaw. “Sorry for hurting you.”

 

She leaned to his touch and smiled. “Thank you for saving me.”

 

“Well, then,” he took her right hand, guiding her fingers to his body. “First, you need to remember the most vulnerable parts in any person’s body.”

 

“Eyes,” he pointed with her, “Nose,” fingers scraped the bridge, “Throat—two parts,” he flattened her hand. “Here,” fingers touched over his Adam’s Apple, “and here,” they pressed lower, where his throat and collarbones meet.

 

“Most especially for men, I think you know,” he looked down, no longer guiding her hand. “Then, the knee caps, and finally, the feet.” He let go of her hand. “Can you repeat that for me?”

 

She nodded, pointing. “Eyes, nose, Adams Apple, lower throat, groin, knee caps, feet.”

 

“Great. Next, is to make your objective clear. Whether your opponent is armed or not doesn’t matter. You must disable your attacker, so that you can run. Understood?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“So what could you do to my eyes?”

 

“Poke, scratch… punch?”

 

“Correct. And to my nose?”

 

“Uh… Punch?”

 

“—or a hard strike, like an uppercut.” He took her right hand, bending it so that the heel of her palm was exposed, and pushed it towards the tip of his nose. “If done right will definitely hurt, and will instantly cause your attacker’s eyes to fill with tears.”

 

She absorbed like a sponge, nodding at his instruction. Her hands were so small compared to his; she wondered how much strength was in them.

 

“A blow to the Adams Apple can collapse your attacker’s airway, which means you can kill them in one strike. And this,” he pressed on her lower throat, “If pressed can temporarily cause your attacker to lose his breath. When he does, what do you do?”

 

“Turn on my heels and run,” she replied with a determined look.

 

“Good. Do I need to tell you what happens if you kick someone’s balls?” the corner of his lips upturned and his eyebrow raised.

 

She laughed, “Do I get to try it?”

 

He answered with an unimpressed look, making her laugh some more. “I’m just kidding, Shinya. Where’s your sense of humor?”

 

“Washed away by powdered detergent—“

 

She kissed him, lips barely grazing the surface of his lips, and stepped back immediately after with a mischievous smile. “We should continue.”

 

He huffed, shaking his head. “Knee caps can be broken or dislocated by a well-placed kick to the knee. A kick to the side of the knee can also hurt your attacker. Stomping on someone’s feet won’t completely disable your attacker, but will at least cause them enough pain, if done well, and will buy you time for you to think of a follow-up attack. Got it?”

 

“Well that was rushed,” she smiled in spite of herself.

 

“That’s because you learn better if you practice—“he rounded up behind her, bringing an arm around her neck just like what Togane did. Caught by surprise, Akane almost lost her footing just as his grip tightened, and immediately her brain began turning its gears.

 

She tried stomping on his feet and each time Shinya evaded her, his grip tightened around her neck. Heart racing, one foot planted on the ground, the other attempted to kick behind but she was lifted above the ground, landing on her knees with his weight bearing down on her; bringing her to a slight panic. Her arms flailed wildly above her head and she was losing breath, unsure where to direct her fingers when his other hand caught her wrist, twisting it till it almost hurt, before loosening his hold on her.

 

Panting, Akane fell forward, palms flat on the rubber mat as she tried to catch her breath. “Let me guess,” she panted, feeling his arm around her stomach, pulling her to sit. “You weren’t even trying.” Her back landed on his chest, which was surprisingly rising and falling too, though with not as much effort as her.

 

“Actually, I was.”

 

She tilted her head, and he looked down at her. “I know better than to underestimate you. Try again?”

 

She nodded, much more eager this time.

 

***

 

They spent the whole afternoon ganging up on each other, with Akane getting the hang of things after every try. Her first successful eye poke came at the expense of him almost ripping her shirt when she pretended to make a run knowing he wasn’t completely incapacitated just yet. It had been their seventh round and both of them were spent; though every opportunity came to learn a few more things. Shinya tried to teach her a little bit of his fighting style, imagining that she could really deliver the blows with her calculated executions. Long before the day wore on he understood she was going to be a formidable opponent as she learned, and he was on guard all the time.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

He lay on his back, one arm over his eyes and he kept still, trying to catch his breath and shut out the pain. Akane hovered over him, equally breathless but sounding worried. Her hands forcefully pushed his arm away, revealing the tears on one eye that slid on the side of his face. With a gentle touch she cupped his face, forcing him to relax and slowly open his eyes.

 

“It’s red, oh I’m sorry!”

 

He managed to smile amid the sting. “Don’t worry about it,” he sat up as she wiped his eyes with the back of her hand. “We should call it a day. The effects of the morphine shot should wear off soon, and considering we’ve been at it for hours I’m pretty sure after a meal you’ll be ready to drop dead on the mattress— which is completely fine, by the way.”

 

Confused, Akane’s mind buzzed with thoughts so impure that she was certain the mental image of her own blushing face wasn’t limited to her imagination.

 

“Oi!” he flicked the tip of her nose, making her wince. “What are you thinking, you dirty woman?”

 

“Nothing!” She would argue that his thoughts weren’t appropriate either since he was so quick to accuse the same, but unlike her, he wasn’t blushing.

 

In fact, he was laughing at her when he pulled her up. His fingers played at the neck of her shirt which he had partially ripped and now fell off one side of her shoulder. “I might have ripped this off completely or I might have strangled you if the fabric didn’t completely break.”

 

She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at him. “I’m going to assume you originally intended the first.”

 

He pretended to be contemplating before replying with a smirk. “Come to think of it, I’m not going to put myself past that.”

 

“Oh, and who’s thinking dirty now?”

 

“Not me,” he grabbed her chin and leaned forward till their lips were centimeters apart. “Go upstairs and get a shower. I’ll prepare some food.”

 

***

 

The package was delivered at his door as scheduled, while Akane was upstairs. Shinya opened the door only a fraction of the way; one hand held out to receive the package and the other holding the cash. The exchange was hassle-free; the package was placed in his hand at the same time the cash was collected, and he closed the door without even facing the person who delivered it.

 

He climbed upstairs puffing on a cigarette, unwrapping the package in his hands. Inside was a box with a number of clean underwear, but upon inspection there were only a couple in Akane’s size, a camisole— again, too big, and a sports bra that looked like it would fit. There was also a note saying that all other women’s clothes were out of stock; and he wished he could be pissed because he paid for underwear and clothes, but behind the note stuck in sticky tape were some bills equivalent to what would be the amount of change for the money he paid for. He made a mental note to transact with that person again.

 

The usable items were placed on the sofa, while the others he put back in the box and placed beneath the closet. He could hear the splash of water and Akane humming while he prepared a sandwich, and he paused, wondering if his clothes would be enough for the two of them. The underwear on the sofa, and the underwear that hung downstairs, seemed to tell him otherwise. He turned his head in the direction of the bathroom and he felt a sudden tinge of sadness.

 

He couldn’t figure out what song she was humming when he slipped inside the bathroom, and if not for the scent of his cigarette he would have enjoyed staring at her for a while longer.

 

“K-Kogami-san!!” Obviously the misty glass wasn’t enough to cover her, and neither were her arms. Her hair like a molded ice cream sundae, the soapy suds trickled from the top of her head and down to every dip and curve of her body.

 

He wanted to laugh, but didn’t. Instead he leaned on the sink with an eyebrow raised, as if saying something along the lines of _nothing I’ve never seen before_.

 

“So how’s the new Division One?” he asked as if he had just walked in on her lounging on his sofa instead of humming, stark naked in the shower.

 

She gazed at him through the misty glass and immediately understood that he wasn’t going to leave. So she turned with her back on him and proceeded with cleaning herself up. “Which ones are you really interested in?”

 

“Gino-“

 

“He’s fine. He worries about me like his father used to,” she confided, smiling beneath the water. “I miss old Masaoka-san. Gino’s probably not going to be exactly like his father, but he’s more like him than he thinks.”

 

Shinya put out the cigarette, pushing down the stick in the wooden ashtray by the mirror—one of his many scattered all over the house. He then took off his shirt, walking to the toilet which was right next to the shower, and put up the seat.

 

“And the red head?”

 

“Oh! Sho is—“ she turned at the trickling sound and saw, absolutely horrified. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING??”

 

He shot her an uninterested look, this time voicing out, “Nothing you’ve never seen before. What are you staring at anyway?”

 

Fuming, she turned her head just as fast— feeling light headed, like all the blood had rushed to her face and was now refusing to flow back into her system.

 

“I asked you a question,” he reminded, lighting another cigarette after suddenly having second thoughts about taking the rest of his clothes off.

 

“Sh-Sho is…” the water wasn’t cold but her teeth were chattering. “Sho is great. He is my holo expert. He calls me onee-chan,” she chuckled. “Yayoi is doing fine; she’s still with Shion… And Mika, well, I guess you could say she needs a little growing up to do.” Her voice steadied, and she let out a deep sigh.

 

“When I was younger Gino told me that fools learn through experience. And though I can’t say things would have happened in another way if I had taken the path of the wise, I have since begun to believe that experience is still the better teacher.”

 

“And Togane?”

 

Akane stood, unmoving, beneath the spray; the soap suds were all washed off and it was just trickles of water flowing on the surface of her skin. He found that he liked the view very, very much.

 

“Well… You know what happened.”

 

“I know you messed up, but why?”

 

“Yes, thanks for reminding me,” she replied bitterly. “I— well, maybe because he was kind of like you...”

 

“In what sense? Because he looks nothing like me,” he threw the cigarette in the trash can a few feet away; his pants were not surprisingly tighter.

 

“I was always with him, and he with me, was what I meant. He expressed interest in the cases we were investigating, his involvement was initiated on his own accord— not the kind who just followed orders and not the kind who would be content at letting me sit behind and do nothing. He had the insight of a detective, too. And, obviously I was wrong but at times I did think he cared about me.”

 

“That sounds lackluster.”

 

“You sound jealous,” she sang, turning the water off with eyes closed she turned around and found herself bumping into his chest.

 

“I am,” he stepped forward, taking her lips in a fevered kiss; his arms captured her, bringing her flush against his naked form. Her knees buckled and he caught her leg, pulling it up to wrap against him; one hand turning the knob of the water and a purposeful grind of his hips, she moaned in his mouth, losing herself in pure desire.

 

It wasn’t that she provoked him, more that he confronted his own feelings, not knowing he was even capable in the first place. He took her possessively in the little space that was the shower walls; but each kiss he gave that she gave back left him wanting, and each touch, each time their hips met where they joined, and each moment he lost his breath was not without feeling—not of selfish desire but of mutual understanding where his mind did not prioritize in his needs, but hers, and he knew, he was not alone when he looked in her eyes where the fires burned like it did their first time.

 

***

 

“Are you sure you’re not hungry?”

 

She lay on her chest beneath the covers, groaning in reply. Her hair was still wet and her body still cool after her second shower— and his first. He buried his face on the crook of her neck, hovering over her and kissing her shoulders, his hands gently caressing the curve of her back. He was fairly certain her conversational skills have been limited to grunts and moans, and his own male ego swelled with pride. There was no doubt she was already half asleep.

 

Still, with closed eyes her hands sought his and she twined her fingers, bringing them close to her lips with a breathy whisper.

 

“Good night, Shinya.”

 

Smiling, he lay on his back, and pulled her against his chest, his lips planting a soft kiss on her forehead. The sandwich was uneaten again, sad to say he didn’t mind the very least. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply as he relished the feel of a soft bed he otherwise did not use, the warmth of the woman who lay beside him, and another rare night where he could actually fall asleep.

 

“Good night, Akane.”

 

***


	4. Three

“Do you?”

 

A parroted question; one that she still couldn’t believe came out of her mouth. Two days was a short time and so much had changed. She felt like an outsider looking at her own self, and at him lying on the bed; they were not strangers anymore, but they never were to begin with.

 

“Come here,” he invited with a tilt of his head. She did as told; crossing the room silently with her eyes on the floor, wondering what had come over her to be so daring. Her approach was, in all honesty, without purpose, yet each step closer physically woke her senses in acceptance of reality; that her memories were not in any way tampered, and that time did not stop, even now.

 

Akane stood by the edge of the bed; head slightly raised to meet his gaze. He looked back with a calm expression, as was his usual. She knew better than anyone that in his mind brewed storms of thought and logic, that the strength and build of his physique was misleading—he had always been so much more than first impressions, not that he had paid mind to what other people thought. Probably—and she had scarcely allowed herself to think this way—she had been let in somehow, inside his world that was beyond being a detective; that giving herself and him taking her was not something ritual and done to just anyone. She liked to hope, anyway.

 

His hand reached out and grabbed hers, pulling her to the bed where she ended up crawling shyly towards him, vividly remembering what she had said to even get to such a situation. His white shirt hung loose on her body and each movement the fabric creased, looking less ceremonial and proper. He didn’t mind at all for she looked beautiful wearing it, even allowing himself the view of her chest because he couldn’t resist. It had occurred to him what a regular male fantasy it was to have a lover wear your clothes, and in all thirty years that he lived this wasn’t the first time it had happened— when he was younger he slept around—but the feeling of a smile, deep down, that threatened to release itself with a curve of his lips, made all the difference in the world.

 

She ended up kneeling next to him, cradling his hand on her lap. “You didn’t answer my question,” she whispered as he turned his head in the other direction, exhaling the last smoke from his cigarette before snuffing it out on the ash tray.

 

He sat leaning on the headboard with one knee bent and the blanket bunched up at his waist, and his only reply was to pat the hard muscles of his stomach. “Sit.”

 

Confused, Akane looked at him questioningly. “What?”

 

“Sit here,” he pulled at her hand again, forcing her to move. Her face heated up when he brought an arm around her torso, lifting her while his other hand guided her leg so that she ended up straddling his waist—and she was beyond embarrassed knowing she was naked down there, her legs stiffened with both hands clutching nervously on his shoulders—Shinya leaned forward and pulled behind her knees, forcing them to bend and she fell above him, sliding from the angle and bumping on _him,_ hard and hiding beneath the sheets.

 

“Did that answer your question, Akane?” his hand crept beneath the shirt, caressing her back. It was too much, too tempting, too early in the day, but her body betrays her and heat crawls at her from within where his hands have been; she realized with unnamed certainty that both of them seemed to be playing catch up to compensate for the time they’ve been apart; that they would have already been doing this if somehow things ended up differently with Makishima.

 

She raked her fingers in his hair, bringing his face closer; his thumbs brushed her nipples beneath the shirt, hardening the peaks. He looked up at her with desire, like already he had missed her when she stepped out of bed and away from him. To say they were connected by fate were the kind of words that brought fools to their knees, yet it was something she honestly believed in. Like she had let go knowing he was there to catch her, the sensations her body was feeling, and the bubble that threatened to burst inside her chest was real, just like the past two days were real, she was in his arms in some disconnected place in the world and they were alone.

 

Their lips joined and it was blissful and slow, and she relearns the confidence that she wore without her clothes when with him with each purposeful grind of her hips. His fingers find their way inside her, stretching her walls and drawing out her moans, committing her sensitive spots to memory. Her lips travelled, planting soft kisses along the line of his jaw, playfully running a tongue along the shell of his ear. She held tight while he responded with kisses along the exposed skin that his shirt allowed, in the middle of her chest just over her heart. Words were never spoken much, what led them here was each other, their hearts calling, reaching beyond physical.

 

He reclaimed her lips, leaning forward to bring her flush against him; she reached behind to pull the blanket down his legs, taking his length in her hand. His reaction was instant; groaning heavily in her mouth and a tightened embrace while his fingers pressed down on her while she stroked him in time with his ministrations. They were past the point of hiding; past the point of insecurities and petty thoughts. They felt more and knew what they wanted, their bodies responded instinctively to their desires.

 

They both came up for air and his one hand reached behind to hold her by the wrist. “Don’t…” he panted heavily, resting his forehead on hers. She did the same to him, one hand pulling his fingers from her while the other guided his length as she lowered herself onto him and he let her go with eyes closed, hands finding purchase around her slender waist.

 

She cupped his face, raining kisses on him when he was fully inside. “Don’t what?”

 

Shinya opened his eyes, meeting her pools of hazel. Her short hair fell around the sides of her face, sticking to the sheen of sweat there; her breath came in hot puffs across his lips, her body a pleasant weight above him and her heat took him in snugly like a too-tight glove. He held both hands that rested on his cheeks, bringing them to his lips, kissing each finger and worshipping her beauty without words. He looked up, completely at her mercy and there was no other way he wanted it to be. He was hers without condition, without reservation like he’d never given himself up to anyone before.

 

“Don’t let me go.”

 

Akane nodded, descending upon him with a roll of her hips. She spread her legs wider, taking him in a slow, pleasurable dance. She never did let him go—when he thought she was just a young and naïve inspector; when he unconsciously took upon a role as his teacher in more ways than one; when he turned his back on her and went his own way; when she was left alone to fend for herself, he was alive in her thoughts every waking moment and she bound to her then as she was now— mind, body, heart and soul.

 

The room disappeared in the heat that surrounded them; the only sounds that could be heard were their own and in the times when their eyes met there was nothing else to see but each other. His hands wandered, cupping her mounds beneath his shirt, rolling her nipples beneath his fingers while hers skimmed the hard planes of his back. He gently lay them down and she continued her slow grind, feeling every inch of him graze her walls as she kissed her way down his neck, raising herself up with both his hands bracing her. Akane lifted herself up and down in a steady rhythm, throwing her head back in reckless abandon, she let desire take over with each slip and slide, her jaws slackened with desperate moans escaping her lips.

 

“Shinya, I…” she panted, her core unbelievably tight. He released one hand to rub a thumb at her clit, flicking purposefully as her hips drove harder on his length. “Oh!” His hips snapped in an upward thrust and her walls closed around him, hot and tight. He sat up, holding her by the ass and riding her out with an increased pace.

 

Her moans did not cease and her eyes closed shut, fingers digging the surface of his skin while he thrust deeper. Beads of sweat rolled down his chin, forceful grunts escaping his lips—her hips ground against his and she couldn’t breathe past the pleasure assaulting her core. She moaned his name repeatedly, all vision lost in heated sensations. He was pounding her deeper, harder and faster, arms wrapped protectively around; a soft contrast to the strength of his hips. She opened her eyes and he kissed her, breathless—their hips meeting harshly, incessantly, both demanding for release.

 

“Akane—”

 

Her whole body gave at the sound of her name, her center a coil unsprung and pleasure broke through in a powerful surge, sending her eyes rolling to the back of her head and her heart swooping where her lungs lost air. Her walls gripped him like a vice as he spurred on, releasing himself inside in hot streaks where they joined, embracing her in his strong arms, holding her where his words never seemed enough. He rode her out till his whole body ached, and his mouth held open at her neck before collapsing on his back, taking her with him.

 

It was quiet, save for each panting breath as she rested on his chest, feeling the mad drumming of his heart, strong and resounding like hers. Inside, she felt spent, and tired, and remarkably whole. Her small body rose and fell with his, and it would take a few minutes before either moved. Shinya slowly pulled her up to separate them, smiling at her surprised hitch of breath. Drawing the covers over them, he pulled her against his side and faced her, one arm draped over her body, his fingers beneath the shirt tracing small circles on her back. Still not quite recovered, they remained staring at each other with a softened gaze, too tired for talking and too lazy for kissing. They found a deep sense of contentment just lying there; close enough, and soon their eyes gave way and drifted off to sleep.

 

***

 

Akane woke up naked beneath the sheets and found a plate of waffles and a small bottle of maple syrup on the night stand. A small note explaining that his white shirt needed to be washed quickly made her blush. He also noted that she should eat plenty, and that he’ll be back in a few. Too hungry to think about where he might have gone, Akane finished the contents of her plate and went for more food inside the fridge before taking a shower.

 

Fully dressed in another one of his T-shirts, she fixed the bed and washed the dishes she used. Her head poked inside the door leading downstairs and she couldn’t hear anything, nor smell his cigarette. Thinking he might take a while, Akane decided to kill time and curiously browsed through the titles on his bookshelf, picking up a paperback titled Atlas Shrugged, and sat on the couch to read.

 

***

 

She had gone through several chapters with heavy enjoyment, when she took a break to raise her arms above her head in a relaxing stretch. Her head fell back and she straightened her legs, yawning—then pausing, when she noticed something that she hadn’t seen before.

 

There was a short metal chain hanging above her head, swaying in the soft breeze. It was alarming how she didn’t notice it especially yesterday when she had the chance to walk around the room. She got up on the couch, rising to her tiptoes to reach it. Apparently she was too short and only the tips of her fingers were able to touch the chain. She moved to stand on the coffee table, which was a bit taller than the seat of the couch, and tried again.

 

Jerking the chain, part of the ceiling swung open and a wooden ladder fell from the hatch, almost knocking her over. She got over the surprise quickly and pulled down the rest of the ladder till it reached the floor before climbing up, her curiosity getting the better of her.

 

The room was small and dimly lit by a white lamp above her head, no windows or other exits, and at the end of the room was a table filled with folders, papers and books—the walls plastered with photos, newspaper articles, documents and notes in Shinya’s writing. There was a thin line of smoke rising from the ashtray and an abandoned cigarette at the end of its burn, telling her that he had been here just before she woke up. She froze on the spot, hair rising at the back of her neck in fear, her mind reeling with questions. What could he possibly be doing in a secluded room above his current home—she was too afraid to find out.

 

Downstairs, his footsteps echoed from the small opening and Akane waited to be discovered, heart pounding inside her chest. The scent of his cigarette filled her nose anew, with every heavy step up the ladder his approach was slow and inevitable, and already she understood he had meant for her to see this in the first place.

 

“So… I guess what you really do in your spare time is read books, cook and sleep?”

 

“I don’t have plenty,” was his monotonous reply.

 

Akane turned around to face him, a little bitter. “And here I am thinking you were living a free and easygoing life.”

 

“Sounds like something Gino would expect of me,” he took a drag from his cigarette, holding it in before slowly exhaling the smoke. His face looked a little sinister with the lack of light from the room, and it vividly brought her back to the days when he was the biggest mystery in her world that she could not help but fear him.

 

“Well actually, it was. Because he knew you longer I came to think he was correct.” Akane hugged herself, feeling small all of a sudden. It had just occurred to her that she didn’t want to know what he was doing here.

 

He walked past her, approaching the table to put out his cigarette on the ashtray. “I was rather hoping you’d base your judgment on the time we spent together before I left.”

 

“I think I just chose which was easier to accept.”

 

He turned to face her with a knowing smile and she could see the difference in their builds again when her eyes fell on the outline of his body beneath the dim light. “Don’t look at me like that. You’re not the only one allowed to think of ways to free me.” Holding out his hand, she took it without hesitation, twining her fingers in his as he pulled her in his embrace.

 

“I thought you _were_ free,” she mumbled in his shirt, burying her face in his chest.

 

He managed to smile bitterly; arms cradling her head as he purposely bore his weight on her shoulders. “Come, let’s go outside.”

 

***

 

“Where did you go?” Akane held onto the small picnic basket that he gave. A dark cloth fell over her eyes before she closed them as Shinya firmly tied the blindfold.

 

“I went to see my mother. That’s where I got your clothes.”

 

She was wearing a blue fitted shirt, for once, and khaki shorts that Shinya gave her. “S-she’s the same size as me?”

 

“Before she had me,” he smirked, taking her hand. “Those clothes are really old, I tell you.”

 

The walk was fairly long and they treaded in comfortable silence; Akane feeling her way, her first steps awkward and scared, her whole body adjusting to the lack of sight. Shinya kept a strong arm around her, guiding her along a path he knew very well but did not walk as often as he would like.

 

It was fairly quiet, like there was no one around but the two of them. She could feel through the slippers she wore that they had moved from one kind of ground to the next— cemented to soil, judging from the flat surface where their steps echoed in her ears, to the rocky, uneven and grassy. She could feel the glare of sunlight through her blindfold; a few steps further the lights flickered and a cool breeze blew around them, telling her that their walk was being sheltered beneath trees. She couldn’t help but smile knowing she had never seen a tree that wasn’t potted or wasn’t inside buildings of glass and steel. The sound of birds chirping made her excitement grow, and she was close to pleading to take her blindfold off when his grip held her tighter and they came to an abrupt halt.

 

“Pretty sure outsiders aren’t allowed here, Kogami,” called man’s voice just a few steps from them. A chill ran up her spine when she heard the cock of not one, but two guns— and one of them was in Shinya’s hand.

 

“I would appreciate you point the gun elsewhere, Miyano-san.”

 

Her grip on the picnic basket tightened and so did his hold on her.

 

“Look who’s talking eh? Rules are rules, especially when you have an Inspector from the MWPSB with you. Now I don’t know what you have up your sleeve—“

 

“I have none,” he retorted, voice stern. She felt his arm fall back to his side, and she released a breath she wasn’t aware of holding. Leaning onto him, she brought her other arm around his back in support.

 

“Better be, Kogami,” said another voice, this time of a woman’s. She held him tighter in fear at the muffled sound of their steps approaching. The picnic basket swayed roughly on her side twice when two people passed, and Shinya’s body tightened in defense when someone bumped purposely onto him.  

 

They stood in silence for a couple of moments before he let out a deep sigh, running a hand up and down her arm. “You ok?”

 

“Yes,” she replied with a light chuckle, more for want of anything to do that would reveal how scared she really was.

 

“Come on, we’re close.”

 

***

 

“I thought you didn’t know anyone,” she tilted her head, fully aware she would not see his face.

 

“Those would be the exceptions.” Shinya took away the picnic basket, placing it on the ground beneath a tree he liked very much. “They wouldn’t have stopped me if it weren’t for you.”

 

“Yes, I figured as much.” She felt the cloth loosen around her eyes, her lids squinting to adjust. The sight that met her was a curtain of green leaves, its branches swaying in the breeze and the sunlight flickering in between the spaces took her breath away. Akane turned to face him, beaming.

 

He placed the cloth in his pocket, looking back at her with a softened gaze. “It’s called a willow tree. Legend has it that they’re trees associated with ghosts, but, well, let’s just say it’s a good thing the sun is up.” Taking her hand, he parted the branches to show her beyond their tree were more trees of different kinds, lined up along the bank of a small stream. A small bridge connected them to the other side where some picnic tables were, a yellow-bricked path led to the children’s playground on one side, and a small glass house on the other.

 

“These are all man-made with the exception of the stream, don’t be too awed.” He stared with amusement at her widened eyes, letting go of her hand so she could walk around in leisure.

 

“These are so old-fashioned, though,” she smiled, referring to pretty much everything in sight. Parks in the city usually were inside malls, and if they weren’t, plenty of the trees were artificial or holographic illusions. Bridges were never that small, and they were never made with wood; glasshouses only exist in books; picnics were not a way to spend free time; playgrounds don’t exist at all. “They don’t let trees grow like this in the city anymore. It’s so beautiful.”

 

“This yellow path was based on a book published more than two hundred years ago, about a girl called Dorothy,” he pointed out as she skipped towards the playground. “I have a copy at home, if you want to read it.”

 

“Does it have a happy ending?” she took a seat on a swing, kicking herself off the ground.

 

“It does.” He stood behind, giving her a push. “The man who made this park was a landscape artist, and he had a little help from an architect, who became his wife. That glasshouse was designed by her, as well as the bridge. They left the city before Sybil was implemented, way before the security around the city went online. This was one of the places where people were scanned with healthy psycho passes early in the implementation, add to that a very small population of no more than twenty at that time; this place wasn’t exactly spectacular in its own right, and it didn’t seem like there was anything else that could be developed in such a small piece of land, which was probably why Sybil decided early on not to govern it.”

 

Akane dug her heels on the ground to halt, turning in her seat to look up at him. “You know, when you left I’ve been searching records about the deserted places in Japan. I found plenty but,” she hesitated, looking away. “I was too scared to go.”

 

He took the seat beside her, fishing out his cigarettes and lighter in his pocket. He offered, knowing she’d decline, before popping one in his mouth, inhaling as he lit. “Most of the deserted areas are shabby, both in place and people; I’m not going to lie, I’m glad you didn’t go. Not to mention Sybil makes the deserted areas look too scary, anyway.”

 

“I didn’t think I’d find you if you didn’t want to be found.”

 

“Correct. I thought you’d know by now that recorded data can’t be trusted, especially with subjects like those. I’m surprised you didn’t get noticed.” He purposely blew the smoke in her face, making her frown. “Besides, this place is not in the records. Sybil be damned should people find such a place existed.”

 

“There could be more, right?”

 

“I’m not going to rule that out, but I’m happy this place is untouched. This playground was made when the artist’s wife got pregnant. She gave birth to a stillborn, and again they tried. For each seat you can see here, these two for the swing, and another two for the see-saw, represented two sets of twins that they lost after their first.”

 

Akane covered her mouth in shock.

 

“After that, a famous doctor sought refuge here after his hue got clouded, and through him they found out that the wife was never compatible with her husband and would therefore never bear his children—and at the same time she admitted that the reason she wanted to leave the city was because Sybil had intended for her to marry a businessman who she had never met.”

 

A soft breeze blew against them, diffusing the smoke of his cigarette in the opposite direction. “You look sad.”

 

Akane stared at the small bridge, hands clutched at the chest. “I… I am,” she admitted.

 

“Well, like Dorothy’s story, this has a happy ending too.”

 

She turned her gaze towards him, hopeful. “Really?”

 

He nodded. “It was unfortunate that they couldn’t have children of their own, but let’s just say it wasn’t such a bad thing. Over the years, children of latent criminals found their way here, either because their parents had intended them to, or because they had escaped the desolate towns that were otherwise not the best place to be. Usually, orphaned children were taken in and brought up in Sybil-managed shelters where sometimes, they would be flagged as latent criminals as early as five. The playhouse, the slide, the monkey bars, and the merry go round were built when kids started coming in, and their house, which isn’t far from here, became a home for orphans.”

 

Her bright eyes lit for a moment, before her brows furrowed in confusion. “But… where are they?”

 

Shinya stood, flicking his cigarette as he walked back to the brick path. “Home, probably.”

 

She jumped off the swing, catching up to him. “What do you mean, probably?”

 

“Well, where else would they be?” he looked down at her.

 

“Why wouldn’t they be here?”

 

He walked on, not answering her question.

 

“Shinya!”

 

Already a few steps away, he lazily turned his head; he often forgets their difference in age and sex, and was vividly reminded at the sight of her. Her hair shined bright beneath the sunlight and she looked like a child, hands fisted at her sides, lips formed into a pout. He sighed, deciding he wasn’t going to ever win. “I bought the place today.”

 

She blinked twice before her lips curved into a smile; the kind so satisfied, where even her nose crinkled and her eyes lit up beautifully—he couldn’t bear to look anymore.

 

“Is this a _date_?” she sang with so much joy in her voice he was close to running away.

 

“Call it what you want, Akane.”

 

Her footsteps broke into a sprint, and before he knew it she had caught up, purposely bumping into him. “It’s a date, then,” she giggled.

 

Shaking his head, he took her hand and led her back underneath the willow tree.

 

***

 

It was mostly her who finished the food, and he was fine by that. He had been eating alone for a while now that he found a simple pleasure in watching her as he leaned on the trunk of the tree, puffing on his cigarette.

 

“I thought you said it wasn’t your business to know who your neighbors were,” she said as a matter of fact, forking a slice of melon and putting it in her mouth.

 

“They’re not my neighbors.”

 

She swallowed, placing the lid on the plastic container. “Ok, then. How many more people do you know?”

 

“I don’t count them.”

 

Unconvinced, she crawled in the space between his legs, kneeling before him. “You can’t have been cooped up all alone. You’re not Saiga-sensei.”

 

He raised a brow, blowing smoke at her face and pushing the cigarette on the ashtray he brought with him. “I’m his student. Who’s to say I’m not like him?”

 

He was surprised at how accustomed to the cigarettes she had become when she did not even flinch. “How else would you know what you know? Those kinds of stories don’t come from paperbacks, especially because they’re recent.”

 

Smirking, he caressed the side of her face with the back of his fingers.

 

“Don’t seduce me!” she leaned away from him and he caught her, turning her abruptly so that she sat with her back resting on his chest.

 

“It’s funny that you keep suggesting things,” he wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled in the crook of her neck.

 

Blushing, she brought a hand to palm her face before completely leaning onto him, stretching her legs on the grass. “I’m asking good questions, you know.”

 

“Yes, and times like these I feel both regret and pride that I made you so.”

 

She tilted her head, grabbing his chin. “Nice try, Shinya. Regrets don’t suit you.”

 

“Good point.” He leaned back, taking a deep breath. “I also try, much harder now.”

 

“What do you mean?” her hands laced in his, resting on her stomach.

 

“I’m trying to figure things out.”

 

It was hard not to hear the hesitation in his voice, so she held him firmly, afraid he wouldn’t continue. “I don’t understand.”

 

“I didn’t think I was capable of… wanting.” He paused, locking his gaze at a swaying branch before them. “When I became a latent criminal, I abandoned all hope of a life. Apart from my desire to avenge Sasayama, I didn’t think there was anything else for me, especially after I killed Makishima with my own hands.”

 

“I woke up every day, running and hiding, wandering aimlessly. It wasn’t long before I came here, and I realized I found a place where I didn’t have to watch my back all the time, that I could do anything I wanted without worrying about what the system thought of me, that this life could mean something more for someone like me who didn’t even think I had one.”

 

Akane smiled, tilting her head. She felt a tinge of sadness that she couldn’t give him anything equivalent to what this place had given him.

 

“But I came to the city one day,” He looked down, meeting her eyes. “And I saw you inside your car.”

 

Her eyes widened, searching. He smiled bitterly, “I think it was almost a year since I saw you last. You went by pretty fast, and I found myself trying to chase you with my eyes. I didn’t go far, obviously, and I went home feeling empty.”

 

“I came back, several times, trying to catch you somewhere in the city. Sometimes I succeeded, mostly I didn’t. When I did, I lost count at the times that I had to fight myself, bite my tongue because I was close to calling you. I couldn’t, and every time I saw you it became clear to me why I kept coming back.”

 

“Why?” she choked, fighting back tears.

 

“I wanted. I wanted more. I wanted to live, I wanted to choose.”

 

She turned in his arms, fingers clutching at his shirt.

 

His forehead touched hers, eyes closed, his voice dropped to a whisper. “I wanted you.”

 

She threw herself at him, tears streaming down her face. It had dawned upon her what a lie the past few days was, because she understood now that a divide existed, no matter where they were. That he couldn’t just take her and run, that she couldn’t just abandon the world and hide was dawning upon her like a knife to her chest.

 

“I looked back and I remembered that I never did anything before becoming a latent criminal, but Sibyl took away my rights, put me in a dressed-up prison, gave me a gun to do its bidding—even when I tried to run from its clutches and eventually broke the law, a second chance did not exist for me and I kept seeking it because for the first time in my life I wanted a life that’s mine.”

 

The truth remained, as real as the breeze that blew around them, the feel of his arms around her, the scent of grass that filled her nose with each sniffle and cry; Akane was plunged, head-first, and it was a while before she recovered. He held her, patiently waiting for her tears to subside.

 

“I wish I could walk away from it all,” she faltered, hugging him tighter. “But I can’t.”

 

“I wouldn’t dare ask you to. And I don’t want to be selfish. I don’t want to be the only one freed. Either it’s a way around the system, or a way to break it or a way for it to cease to exist— I don’t know, not yet.”

 

She pulled away, wiping her eyes. “I sometimes think we deserved to be a little selfish.”

 

“Except we’re not,” he smiled, leaning forward to plant a kiss on her forehead. “Three days is too long a time for a missing Inspector. We should go, it’s getting late.”

 

***

 

“I have a question,” her voice echoed when they reached cemented ground, her ears and feet able to tell that they had walked a different path this time. “What if… you didn’t kill Makishima? Do you think you’d have thought the things you told me? Would you have remained an Enforcer?”

 

“Either way, I’m pretty sure the execution order would have stood, Akane.”

 

“How can you be sure?” she found her grip tighten on his arm. “What if… what if your safety had been guaranteed had Makishima been taken in safely? What if you could have still been a Detective?”

 

His steps slowed, but showed no signs of stopping. “Do you think telling me that would have stopped me then?”

 

She considered for a moment, already knowing the answer. He was indeed, Shinya Kogami, through and through. “No,” she answered, more for her own benefit than his.

 

“Besides,” she heard his steps come to a halt and the sound of keys being inserted into a lock. The door opened and he led her inside, closing the door behind him before taking off her blindfold. They walked up the staircase in silence, and when they reached the second floor he placed the picnic basket on the counter. “Go take a shower, I have something to do.”

 

He walked to the ladder leading up his secret room and climbed, she ran up to the foot of the ladder, calling after him.

 

“Besides what?”

 

“What?”

 

“You were going to say something, before we went inside.” A light flickered upstairs and she could hear his footsteps from the ceiling. “Shin—“

 

He appeared above the steps, nothing but his silhouette visible to her. “Enforcers can’t get married,” he said with finality, ending the conversation.

 

***

 

She was already sitting in bed with a book in her hand when he finished. It was obvious that he was going to get a silent treatment after what he had just said, but he wasn’t sure why it was she who seemed embarrassed about it all.

 

“Nice shirt,” he commented, referring to another one of his that she casually put on. He figured there weren’t a lot of clean shirts left in his closet now. He sat on the edge of the bed, pinching her nose when she made no move to acknowledge him. Her retaliation was a weak swat of the paperback on his hand, earning a raised brow from him, no less. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

 

Leaning forward, she wrapped both arms around his neck, their noses bumping. “Thank you,” she whispered. There was none of that hunger, nothing heated between the two of them now; and it was apparent when neither of them moved in for a kiss, yet both felt it wasn’t necessary.

 

Shinya leaned back and took out a prefilled syringe in the shape of a pen, placing it in the palm of her hand. “This is a contraceptive. It’s your body so you should choose. Take as much time as you want, take it with you if you can’t make up your mind yet. It will still work till a month after.”

 

She was about to open her mouth when he interjected, “Do know, that if you decide to keep anything, if anything does result, that it is also _mine_. Don’t you dare try to run.”

 

Akane smiled, closing her fingers around the pen. “I understand.”

 

“You should get some rest. We need to be up early tomorrow.” He got up, taking off his shirt as he walked towards the bathroom.

 

“Can I take this book with me?” she asked, forlorn. “And the Dorothy book?”

 

“It’s called The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, Akane. And, unfortunately it will be a little hard to take anything with you with the exchange,” he replied, not turning around.

 

***

 

Though she had her back to him when he reappeared from the shower, he knew without a doubt that she wasn’t asleep. He dressed quickly, crossing to his side of the bed and confirming when he met her gaze, hard and expressionless, like she had turned her emotions off with a switch; the book abandoned on the nightstand.

 

Lying down, he reached around for it, sitting up and flipping the pages to where she had bookmarked. “This is a pretty long book. Why did you choose it?”

 

She shrugged, pulling the covers up to her chin. It wasn’t particularly cold, yet she sought some form of shelter that wasn’t his arms, knowing she wasn’t allowed to get used to it. “What happens tomorrow?” she asked, bravely, because she wasn’t going to skirt around the issue and neither should he.

 

He closed the book with a sigh. “I will bring you to Division One; in an old train station is where they will be waiting for us.”

 

“How safe?”

 

“I’ve thought about that.”

 

“How?” she stressed, in a voice much louder than she intended.

 

He looked down on her with a smile. “As much as Gino can guarantee.”

 

“Ginoza-san is an Enforcer,” she sat up to level with him. “He’s not the only person in Division One!”

 

“Akane,”

 

“How can you be sure—“

 

He brought a hand to cup her face, his thumb caressing her cheek. “I’m not. I can only trust my own plans beforehand. I can only trust two of my former colleagues to trust me, and I can only trust that you will also trust me.”

 

Resigned, she fell back into the pillows, her own body unable to turn away from him. It was foolish to think this would last forever, and like a fool she would learn once more. Still, she refused to let a moment pass where she could not see him, simply because she was going to want to remember everything—good and bad— when they part.

 

He lit up a cigarette and took a long drag, staring into space. It was still early in the evening and already he knew his sleepless nights would resume starting now. And tomorrow his bed would be made and he will wash the covers, then he will not sleep in it, not ever. Exhaling the smoke, he bit his lip, staring at the glowing end of the stick.

 

“Akane,” he whispered, placing the cigarette on the ashtray. From the corner of his eyes he could see her shift underneath the covers, but he could not bear to look at her face, not when he felt so weak.

 

She tried to smile, remembering the sound of her name on his lips. It had occurred to her that before they met again he had only called her by the name once, but in the past three days she had lost count. That even she could call him by his name, and in the times that she did made her face flush a deep red, even those when she wasn’t naked in his arms.

 

“I’d ask you to stay—” his jaw tightened, so did his fists. “—and I want you to.”

 

She took his hand in hers, bringing it to her lips. He took it as an invitation to lie down, rolling on his side to face her. His gaze lingered on the corners of her eyes where they glistened, and the tip of her eyelashes and the bridge of her nose—drawing himself closer till his own hand in hers came in between, his other arm surrounding her.

 

“We still have things to do, Shinya,” she whispered, this time, tears fell in an endless stream, without sound. She clutched his hand like her life depended on it, and maybe it did.

 

He nodded, kissing the hand that held his. He knew no amount of words would suffice for them both, and so he held her like he always did, gentle and protective, before she succumbed to sleep.

 

***

 

She stood in front of the mirror in her underwear and skirt, looking through another version of herself. Her eyes were swollen and tired, her cheeks lacked color, her expression a reflection of her being, that is, miserable. He appeared behind her, opening the shirt so she could slip her arms through it. She did so mechanically, committing to memory the touch of his hand while smoothing the fabric on her back and when he turned her to face him.

 

He had ironed the shirt he borrowed from his mother, and it looked eerily like the ones she wore during her days as his Inspector. She did not move when he buttoned her up, not even when he unfastened her skirt so he could tuck the shirt in. Her gaze lowered, staring at the movement of his hands and he tricked her, running a finger up the line where her buttons were, touching the exposed skin on her chest and further up to her neck and he was tilting her chin, forcing her to look in his eyes. “Please smile?” he implored, caressing her cheek with the back of his hand.

 

In spite of herself, she did, tearfully, and he managed to laugh, genuinely, before his lips descended upon her. He pulled her against him, she grabbed at his collar, and everything they had felt in the past three days poured out, neither hungry or demanding, but slow and passionate, yielding to one another. The time for crying had ceased and once again she found her home in his arms, her heart welling in contentment. Perhaps it would be a while, and she would remember everything about it, about him, and about them.

 

Breaking away, Shinya rested his forehead on hers, stilling his madly beating heart. He will never move on from the barrage of sensations that he had been subjected to—not when a simple kiss had his whole body trembling with emotion, not when he had given and taken with no intention of returning, not when his heart committed to an unspoken promise— he was hers.

 

Reluctantly, he pulled out the cloth from his pocket, taking all his willpower to turn her around and tie it behind her head. He hugged her tight, one last time, taking her by the hand.

 

“Time to go.”

 

***

 

The old train station only had one side of the platform still standing, and only one line functioning. Trains interchange in the same station, to and fro, and beyond the tracks was the equivalent modern-day slums; old and abandoned office buildings where the homeless had taken shelter. It was a bustling, messy black market during the day, and a prostitute and drug dealer’s den by night. Early in the morning, though, just before the sun rose, it was one of the safest passages to the city, for someone like him.

 

There were no closed spaces save for the trains, but since they got off a stop before, and were coming from an alleyway facing the platform, Shinya had full advantage of a clear vantage point, and plenty of space in the moments of arrival and departure. The trains were old but incredibly fast, and for a person who was on the run, knowing the exact times, and how to use them, was an invaluable skill.

 

Division One stood by the platform as a group, just like they agreed. With a watchful eye he scanned the rest of the platform for anyone suspicious, and found none. The last of the passengers who got off the train were at the exits and leaving the station. Drones were rarely deployed in this place as radio signals were weak. Dominators, however, were a different story. They looked unarmed, but Shinya knew better. He took out his phone and dialed in Gino’s number.

 

“Kogami—“

 

“Take out your Dominators, Gino. I’m not a fool.” Akane’s head tilted in his direction at the sound of Gino’s voice.

 

Somewhere in the platform, Mika Shimotsuki’s voice could be heard clearly. “I told you!”

 

Shinya, with an arm around Akane, had taken cover behind the latest train that arrived, already emptied of passengers. Opening the door from the other side, they climbed on a couple of cars from Division One, passing though it to reach the platform while they were busy taking out their Dominators. The red-head, Sho, was the first to notice their presence when the train behind them moved to park in the depot.

 

“Dominators on the ground NOW!” The cold metal touched the crown of her head, and for the second time that week she heard the cock of his gun. Shinya had an arm around her neck, forceful to the point of hurting. She made no move to protect herself, knowing his every action was required for his own safety. “Point it at me and I’ll blow her head off!”

 

Successive clangs of metal met cement as Yayoi immediately relinquished her hold, followed by Mika and Sho.

 

Gino held the Dominator in his hand, refusing to relent. “You’re not going to hurt her, Kogami!”

 

“Did I sound like I was joking on the phone, Gino?” he taunted, pushing the barrel of his gun to her skull.

 

“Drop the Dominator, Ginoza! That is an order!” Mika shouted. “I won’t have you endanger the life of your Inspector!”

 

“Kick them here, and kick them hard. I don’t want to have to make sure they fall off the platform for you.”

 

Seeing their hesitation, Shinya’s menacing voice rang across the platform. “Do I look like I have all the time in the world?”

 

And again, Yayoi led the group as the Dominators slid off the platform and onto the rocky tracks. Gino’s Dominator, however, was caught by Shinya’s feet mid-slide. The clock on the platform read two minutes to six, and the sun was steadily rising from the East.

 

“Come closer, Gino. Don’t want me to throw off your Inspector where you don’t want her to be.”

 

The taller man had both hands fisted to his sides; it’s taking all his self-control not to throw himself at his old friend. He didn’t want to believe what he heard last night, when he spoke to him after two years. Now, he was certain that Shinya Kogami was a very different man.

 

“Don’t be rash, now, Ko—“ the sun was glaring at them, his hand shot up to block the light.

 

“Closer, idiot.”

 

When he was within five steps, Shinya held the gun up, signaling him to stop. It was a Thursday morning, and the second week of the month. The train that had just arrived came from Nagasaki, and another, passenger-less train will arrive in under a minute carrying the whole city’s three-day supply of artificial flavoring for Hyper Oats. This train does not stop on the platform; rather, it goes straight through it and into the storage depot a mile away, where each sack will be segregated by machines into their respective delivery trucks, ready to be sent out for the day.

 

A blazing horn rang through Akane’s ears from not so far away; the sun’s heat was seeping through her clothes, and the scent of Shinya’s hair filled her nostrils as he gradually loosened his hold, heavy arms replaced by a protective touch that only she knew, his voice a contrasting soft tone.

 

“Take care, Akane—“ and she swore his lips brushed on her cheek before he pushed her body forward, Ginoza catching her and the horns blazed loud as the train sped on the tracks. She impulsively took the blindfold off, pulling herself from Ginoza’s grasp and crawling on the floor, reaching for the Dominator.

 

Her pupils lit in blue at the gun’s recognition, the sun’s rays blinding and the last cars of the train sped past; Akane Tsunemori pointed a Dominator at her lover before he looked back once, breaking into a run.  With eyes widened, her vision blurred, a solitary tear fell for every word only she could hear—her heart unfurled and hope renewed.

 

A Former Enforcer Registered at the Criminal Investigation Department: Kogami, Shinya

Execution Order: On Hold.

 

Crime Coefficient: 45

Not A Target For Enforcement Action

[Trigger will be Locked]


End file.
